I walk through Pathway, its shops and streets alive with people of all types. The elves and humans walk side by side, of course they do - this whole place has a cosmopolitan feel to it.

I was 12 years old when I'd been here but now looked like a man. I hadn't realised I'd look as he did, memories are strange like that.

I tasted this place in the winds of course. Everywhere in Velmaneth had a scent in the wind and each scent told a different story. This time it was Pathway and if I speak honestly, it feels like home. As I walk I smile at children that walk past but they scream. Now everyone is screaming and running, the taste of a new wind, and here is Erathil. The people are running, they climb over themselves to escape but fall to the ground, their minds annihilated. I should fight, or run, but instead I kneel.

My loyalty is unquestio-

I try to finish my words but the air coils back and fills my lungs instead.

I wake.

Velmaneth is quiet, and quite beautiful at night. He isn't here at the moment and that's refreshing. Sadly They aren't here either.

I look to the Him, flowing, vast and restless, and I can see an elf of wind and of fire - once drowned, the terrible potential for destruction is apparent, but for now, a new wind.

The stench of the rotting this time, I see them shamble across Him. Sowing salt and scarring Him. I feel I should intervene but for now I watch and hope this wind does not last long. I try to talk out loud, to comment on what I see, but there is no-one to listen, for They have gone.